


Hold Each Other. Be Happy.

by a_suspiciously_large_pig (Queenie_D)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, me? a touch starved asexual projecting onto our dear Archivist? more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_D/pseuds/a_suspiciously_large_pig
Summary: Being tricked into starting the apocalypses is pretty terrible, but sometimes hugs can make it a little bit less terrible.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	Hold Each Other. Be Happy.

**Author's Note:**

> A short little JonMartin one shot I quickly wrote because how else am I supposed to cope with my feelings. Hope you enjoy.  
> Also I apologies in advance for possible spelling or grammar errors; though I enjoy writing the occasional thing, proofreading is the bane of my existence.
> 
> UPDATE 02/12/2021: I changed the pseud this was under, just so I can have all my TMA stuff in one spot. Enjoy!

It was, quite literally, hell out there. 15 different kinds hell, brought into the world to feed off the fear and pain of everyone in it.

And it was all his fault.

If he had only been more carful, if he just hadn't been so stupid and reckless, if he could have just _known_ about that statement. Even with all his power and knowledge, he had managed to get tricked so easily. Thinking about it brought that heavy feeling of hatred bubbling up though his chest, though he had still yet to figure out who exactly those feelings were for; Jonah, or himself. 

So now here he was, sitting in Daisy's old cabin, the safehouse he dare not leave. He hadn't stepped outside since just after this had all started. It just felt too wrong out there. He felt sick being out there. Sick from the guilt, sick from the fear, from the anger and shame and sadness and grief. But even worse than all of that, it felt like it was calling to him, filling him with a twisted desire to go out and see all that suffering that he had unleashed. It felt like he was supposed to be out there, with the other monsters. So, he stayed inside, paralyzed by the fear of what he had done, and even more so by the fear of what he could possibly do.

The cabin was better than outside, but that was not exactly the highest praise. It still felt wrong in there, with a creeping sense of dread seeming to seep form every surface, and fill the air. But it was safe, and it was warm, and it created a distance between him and all the horrors that waited outside. Time no longer worked like it used to, so he could only guess at how long he had been inside, but it still wasn't long enough to help him forget about everything around him. 

Jon had absentmindedly wandered over to the little old couch, as he often did after failing to read another statement. Where he had once craved those accounts, they now only added to his unease. After that message from Jonah, the rest of the statements seemed off, like food that was starting to sour and rot, though he couldn't tell if it was the guilt he felt that caused this, or just that these old statements now seemed so insignificant compared to everything else. Why bother with these stories of the small ways the entities used to creep into the world when there was now so much more fear and pain for him to know. He would try to read those statements, being himself back to some feeling of normalcy, but the words were bitter as he read them, and they made his stomach turn, so he would inevitably end up leaving them back in their folders, and wandering back to that couch. It had become his new routine, trying and failing to read, then returning to the spot where he wallowed in that awful, overtired feeling; that fatigue where every inch of your body was exhausted, and yet sleep seemed impossible. It was a miserable way to exist, but even with all his knowledge, he did not know what else he could do.

He brought his knees up to his chest, and rested his arms and head on top of them. Then his eyes wandered over to the window, where the drapes were open ever so slightly, just enough to see what laid beyond them. The sky still stared back at him, and the wind howled in a way that almost sounded like it was calling out for him. For a moment he shut his eyes, trying to bring back the memories of cows and green fields and grey skies that he had so fondly looked at when he first arrived here. Now those images were fuzzy and distorted in his mind, like a picture take out of focus. His eyelids slowly opened again, and once again he was faced with the reality of his situation with overwhelming clarity.

Just as another wave of melancholy began to wash over Jon, a noise caught his attention. The telltale creek of the aging floorboards as Martin stepped around the corner from the other room. Martin had quickly fallen in step with this routine Jon had made for himself, and so he knew of leave to the other room while Jon tried in vain to record statements, giving him what little privacy he could. He would usually wait there, and then after the whole cabin had gone silent for a good few minutes, he would peak in to find Jon once again on that couch, looking as tired and defeated as he always did nowadays. It worried Martin to see him like that, so he knew that the best thing was to offer whatever comfort he could. 

The couch sunk down a little as Martin took a seat beside him. Jon felt as Martin gently placed his hand on his arm, and instinctively leaned into him, letting his head fall on his shoulder. As he did this Martins arm warped around him and pulled him a little tighter into the embrace. Jon let his eyes drift shut again, but was no longer trying to bring back memories of something better. Instead, he let himself become immersed in this moment, in the feeling of warmth and comfort and love that it gave him. So many things felt so wrong now, and so many things _were_ wrong now, but for this moment he could let that slip away from his mind. In a place with so much wrong, Martin had become the one thing that felt completely and unquestionably right. It felt as though he could sit there in his arms forever, and everything would just be alright. Jon knew how much power he now had, he knew that he was protected for everything that was happening outside, but still here, held by Martin, was the one place he really felt safe.

Jon wasn't sure when he had begun to cry, but as a shaky breath escaped his lips, he was suddenly aware of tears gently rolling down his cheeks. Martin had taken notice as well, carefully wiping one of the tears away with him thumb, before wrapping his other arm tightly around Jon, bring him in tight to his body. 

For much of his life, Jon had felt a little self-conscious about his size. He was always on the shorter side amongst his peers as far back as he could remember, and he'd never had much luck with keeping weight on him. Now, however, he was thankful for his small frame, since it seemed to allow Martin to completely envelop him in his embrace. 

Tears continued to quietly fall as Jon wound his arms around Martin's chest, pulling himself in even closer. Any gap between their bodies suddenly felt uncomfortable cold, so they coiled around each other as tight as they could. The tears began to come faster now, making Jon's breath go ragged. He didn't care. He was safe here, and he was loved here, so if he was going to cry he would cry. 

Martin pulled back from him, ever so slightly, just enough that he was able to softly kiss Jon's forehead. It was such a gentle kiss, but still it filled Jon's chest with a feeling of love that almost ached. Martin leaned his head down a little more and placed another kiss on his cheek, still damp from the tears.

Jon sat up a little straighter, letting his eyes come up to meet Martin's. He knew Martin was just as scared as he was, if not even more. He didn't even need the powers from Beholding to know that. Any one in their right mind would have been scared in a place like this, but in moments like these, Martin did his best to hide it. Though Jon could see the fear and sadness in Martin's eyes, that same warm smile he had known for years was still there. He couldn't help himself from smiling back. That smile was the one thing that could bring him that feeling of normalcy that he tried so hard to find. It brought him back memories of their lives before all of this, back to the institute, before all the monsters and death and fear gods. Some small part of Jon wrenched with the regret that it had taken all of that for him to end up here, but he refused to let himself dwell on it. Instead he just savored that smile, allowing it to reignite that last remaining bit of hope left in him. 

Martin brought his hand up, brushing some stray hairs away from Jon's face, tucking them behind his ear. Without even thinking, Jon leaned his head into Martin's hand, so his cheek rested in Martin's palm. He was indulging himself in every bit of touch he could, letting himself be consumed by every caress. Martin was more than happy to oblige him, relishing in the way that Jon seemed to just melt into him. 

As Martin gently ran him thumb over the sharp curves of Jon's cheekbone, Jon pulled his arms up so that he was able to place his own hands softly on either side of Martin's face. They sat there a few moments, drinking each other in, before they both leaned in, closing the gap between them until their lips met. 

It was not a hungry kiss, not one full of some burning desire. It was tender and calm, and some may even have called it chaste. But it was everything to them. A reassuring touch that seemed to scream to them _it's alright, I love you, and we are going to be alright_. Jon's arms snaked down around Martin's shoulder, his hands resting on his back. Martin brought his hands up and wove them through Jon's hair. They pulled each other in again, the need to close those gaps between them sweeping back over them. It was almost strange to them how a moment could feel so perfect in a world that had turned so wrong, but neither of them dared bring it up, fearing it would all be over too quickly. Just of that moment, they were able to relax, to collapse into one another and let go of everything else.

When they eventually did break the kiss, they just continued to sit there, fore heads pressed together, savoring every last bit of pleasure and touch and love that they possibly could. They stayed their, bodies tangled together, for what felt like hours in their strange, timeless world. In the back of their minds the knew what was there beyond their little cabin, but they didn't care. Right now, they had each other, holding each other, cherishing each other. In that moment, that was all they wanted to care about. They were safe for now, and they had each other. For now, that was all they needed. A fleeting moment of happiness amongst the carnage that surrounds them.


End file.
